


All That Matters

by Kivan



Series: From the Fires [18]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Bird That Need To Talk, F/M, FromTheFires, Light Angst, M/M, Moderately Drunk Jason, questionable mental states
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-16 03:53:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19310086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kivan/pseuds/Kivan
Summary: So yes, the whiskey mattered more. The whiskey was simple. A simple pleasure that he could enjoy alone. Because maybe that was the issue. He was alone again. And after a year of not being alone, how do you do that so suddenly again.





	All That Matters

**Author's Note:**

> Don't get excited.  
> Really.  
> Do not.

The only good thing about the wall coming down was that now Jason’s favorite bar had whiskey again. It was as stupid thought, he knew, but he’d spent the last thirty-five minutes and three glasses telling himself that, yes, this was all that mattered.

It wasn’t that the horrors they had seen so much more frequently in those nineteen months were over, or that the fires were actually out now. Or that the cement blockades were coming down slowly replaced with chain-link and hazard signs, but accessible and _open_. Gotham was open again.

But the whiskey is what mattered.

Jason laughs onto the rim of his glass, hating it. Twelve months with the whole lot of them has broken him. Eleven months sleeping in the manor had broken his will to sleep on the flimsy twin mattress in his safe house. He’d even managed to go see Roy for a few days, and all he could convince himself that mattered was his damn whiskey.

Or well, that he would have liked to matter to him.

Seven months not sleeping alone had broken his will to sleep, period, now that Gotham was open and there was no need to go back to the manor.

So yes, the whiskey mattered more.

The whiskey was simple. A simple pleasure that he could enjoy alone. Because maybe that was the issue. He was alone again. And after a year of not being alone, how do you do that so suddenly again.

It was wasn’t sudden, they had weeks of notice as to when the blockade would be lifted.

But those weeks had been full of tying up loose ends, finalizing plans and ideas, sweeping back up the last of the bug guns into Arkham. The entirety of the police force was inside the prison, making sure nothing was missing and the Bats had taken care of the rest of the city.

Every news stations in the nation was counting the death toll. Nineteen months and nearly ten thousand lost so far, but still counting. Jason, even, knew the numbers. Seventy-four percent of the population had left prior to the lock down, leaving approximately two-hundred and sixty thousand people in the city. Most of those ten thousand had been killed off by the toxin or the fires, and more were still unaccounted for probably in the same messes. Most politicians were just pointing fingers now, ‘ _how could this happen_ ’.

Jason knew how it happened. He was in the rows when the explosion from Ace Chemical went up. He was still in the rows when Scarecrow’s toxin first spread. He barely made it out of the rows before they were all lit on fire. There was an entire five block sector in the north east part of the city that the Bats hadn’t been able to get into after the first few months. When it all caved in, it fell straight down into the subway lines. Croc’s contribution. Buildings toppling over on each other like fucking dominos. Jason had watched that happen. He’d tried to save them.

God, he _tried to save them_.

Whiskey couldn’t make up for that.

The fences were useless, when Scarecrow and Firefly wanted everyone to stay in the city. Their fires and the ever-evolving toxin were better barricade that any human construct. Lungs and skin were important to live, and that’s what they targeted.

Jason signals the barkeep for another glass and rubs his hands over his face. It won’t wipe away the memories. But he pushes just a bit harder.

The ice cubes jingle to signal a new glass being put in front of him and Jason gives the older man across the bar a tight smile. “Thanks, Sam.”

Sam the barkeep gives him one back. “Slow down, Jay.” But he chuckles almost and moves back to the other end were a group a business men are chatting animatedly.

God, even that makes his eyes track over the group in near wonder. _Business men_. Sad fucking day, when this is his excitement. There are five of them. This close to the skid and none of them are wearing masks.

Maybe the city can heal, like Dick and the brat keep telling him.

Imagine his voice of reassurance being Damien fucking Wayne, though.

Jason takes a long sip from his glass, and sighs.

Now the wall was down, and life was returning to its old usual- per the businessmen on the other end of the bar. The schools were largely under rebuilding construction, but also open again, just north of the row. The hospital was almost completely staffed again, as those who had left before were coming back, same with other businesses and retailers. The police force was in mass hiring and training mode, which could always cause issues, though Jason knew Barbara and Jim were watching closely. Barbara being the new chief of police and all. There were plans for elections for the vacated political positions in Gotham’s hierarchy again.

Bruce was being hounded to step in as Mayor, since he was one of the few influential people who hadn’t run for the hills as soon as Ace chemical blew.

But then again, Bruce was hiding from the public seeing as he still couldn’t stand for more than five minutes without losing feeling in his legs. And wasn’t that a shocker- _Batman couldn’t walk_. Jason still thought it was a dream every now and then, until he walked into the cave. The entire justice league had tried to see him, and as far as Jason knew, only Superman had gotten into the same room with him.

Jason was willing to bet his pride was more extensively bruised than his spine. Tim had fixed the neural parts. Bruce just had to fix his head, before he could move onto his legs. Since he was literally the poster child for mental disfunction, so he felt justified in these thoughts.

Not that Kory or maybe even Roy would agree.

But that was one person he was not thinking about, and another that he was actively avoiding.

Because Roy had been so relieved to hear from him, so happy to see him when he’d ditched to Star City for a few days.

But after only a day, Jason knew he was coming back.

Fucking _Gotham_.

Jason didn’t think his love/hate relationship with this city could get any more complicated. And then, even while imploded, Gotham gave him the smallest breath of happiness. The smallest taste of- _god_ , he shudders- _love_ he’d been able to feel since he’d crawled out of the pit. Just a small respite to the anger and the all-consuming rage he could feel boiling at the back of his mind, even this second- while still staring down a group of businessmen across his favorite bar.

Maybe Gotham had nothing to do with it, though.

Maybe it was just Dick.

But Dick had been shaped by this damn city, molded by it, rocked to sleep by it. Gotham had torn Richard Grayson limb from limb, and then taught him to shine again.

Or maybe that was just Dick, too.

Maybe it was just because Dick refused to stop getting back up, so Gotham just kept knocking him down.

Except this time- this time, Gotham came for Jason.

Because the wall was coming down. Because Gotham was open again.

And Richard had gone back to his family.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise. When Kory and Dick had a kid, Jason had been lost in the south American Amazon with Roy. But he knew that Dick loved her. Every father loved their daughter, or so he was told. But Jason hadn’t known Mar’i existed until she was nearly two years old.

Which in hindsight might have been willful ignorance.

Roy loved the kid, so he’d run into her when Roy was babysitting a few times. He didn’t care for kids and Mar’i had been no different.

Maybe it should have meant more, when he’d realized Grayson was still inside the wall. When he’d realized Mar’i and Kory weren’t. When he’d found out that they’d split nearly two years before Ace had gone up.

As the poster child for mental disfunction he hadn’t even begun to chip away at the slow evolution of his infatuation with Dick Grayson.

They hadn’t been brothers since before Jason had died. And Jason was fine with that. If he hadn’t been, maybe this would have turned out better. He wouldn’t have lost months of progress the moment he no longer had a reason to call him. He may not have lost bits of his sanity when he realized he was in love with him- if they hadn’t hugged, kissed, fucked and slept securely in the same bed for months. If Gotham, _that bitch_ , hadn’t given him just that small sliver of happiness when Richard Grayson held his hand for the first time.

He could blame Ivy, or Croc, or any of them really. But he wasn’t drunk enough for that, internally at least.

Jason fell in love with Richard Grayson slowly and quietly.

He was the frog in the pot, as the water slowly boiled.

And no, maybe he was drunk enough to blame someone else, but this time- _this time_ , Jason was cognizant enough to know. He was lucid enough to not fall back into the habit. He might have free fell into it, but he refuses to remain willfully ignorant.

Jason knew he could just call.

He nearly laughed out loud at the idea.

There were missed called and voicemails to prove it, but-

_‘Hey Dick, so we’ve been hooking up for a few months, but you know, never really talked about the ‘what now’ part?_ ’ Fucking useless.

Except then-

“Hey,” he hears, and turns to where Dick is sliding into the seat next to him, dressed in warm civvies, and grinning at him softly. “Roy said you were back in town.”

It takes a moment for his brain to reconnect. “And when did Roy say that,” he asks, hearing the harsh edge to the question, without heed.

Dick’s grin turns a bit more forced, and his knuckles knock on the bar top once.

It sounds hallow and Jason makes himself breathe slowly.

“Want a drink,” Jason asks next, forcing his words into more docile shapes.

Dick huffs an almost laugh, turning back to him with a deprecating glare.

“They have whiskey again” Jason adds, letting this singularly happy fact brighten his tone.

“Really, _whiskey_ ,” Dick asks, tone sharp but brittle.

“Yes, really,” he answers, defensive now.

Dick huffs again, glaring at the wall, then spits, “Fuck you, Jay.”

Jason wants to snap back, wants to fight- but he can see the hard lines of Dick’s neck and the whites of his knuckles.

And it doesn’t add up.

Because Dick went back to his family.

Gotham came for Jason this time.

“Shouldn’t you be happier,” Jason asks instead.

Dick glares at him, and it’s been a while since he’s seen Dick angry. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Alfred said you went to see Mar’i,” Jason reasons.

Because that’s exactly what happened.

Jason had come back and gone to the manor with minimal brooding. He’d worked up to it for a few days, brewing ideas in Star City, playing out the possible pitfalls that could happen. But he’d told himself ‘ _what’s the worst that could happen_ ’, and he’d reasoned it would have been that Dick would say they weren’t worth it, there was no need for them to be anything more than acquaintances or comrades.

Jason hated the words comrade. Sounded like a venereal disease.

His worst-case scenario is that Dick wouldn’t see the point in them.

And when he’d found out that Dick had gone home, to see Mar’i, that felt like an answer.

But Jason was getting sidetracked, probably, because Dick was looking at him with a level of confusion he wasn’t expecting.

“So,” Jason continues, “You do not want a drink?”

“Are you out of your mind,” Dick asks right back.

Jason ducks his head for a moment, “It’s been debated-”

“You _took off_ , Jay,” Dick tells him slowly.

Jason swallows, “Not technically.”

“I called you eight times,” Dick tells him slowly still.

“Bad reception,” Jason hedges. His reception had been fine, he just hadn’t known what to say when he would have answered the phone. There were also five voicemails that he hadn’t been able to listen to. “I was decompressing,” He adds to account for these, and lift his glass to avoid any other things he may have missed.

“If you wanted me to fuck off, you could have just said,” Dick spits next, “Never knew you were one to spare feelings.”

Jason frowns, looking back at Dick now, glass tapping against the bar top hollowly. “What,” he asks, stupidly.

“Never mind,” Dick sighs, his own hands pushing against his eye sockets now. His words are as tense as the lines of his neck and shoulders, all the way down his back. “Alfred wanted to know if you were coming back for dinner. I’ll tell him you’re busy.”

“No, _wait_ ,” Jason says slowly now, “ _What_?”

Dick sighs, dramatically now, whole body slumping, and arms falling over the bar top. There’s no joking now, and Jason suddenly realizes that maybe Dick thinks Gotham came for him this time. “It’s fine,” Dick says now, all the fight and spurn gone from him, “It’s okay.”

“It’s probably not,” Jason snaps now, hand not holding his whiskey glass reaching out and wrapping around Dick’s wrist. “You backing out, bird boy?”

Dick looks up at him now, eyes wide and surprised. Jason hold on tighter.

“You’re the one who got the world back, Dick,” Jason tells him, saying it as nicely as he can, though the words roar inside his chest, “All I had was already here. _You got the world back_.”

Jason wonders if he’s making sense. Wonders if he’d ever be able to explain to Dick all the worries he has. He’s sick. His mind is his number one enemy. Dick has options. He has Mar’i to think about. And Kory, even if only for Mar’i’s sake. Dick has the league and the _world_ outside Gotham.

They aren’t the be all for Dick.

But if they are a _they_ , that’s _it_ for Jason.

But Dick looks at him like he knows all of this. Like he understands and suddenly he looks sad.

“I don’t need the world,” Dick whispers after a moment, his hand laying over Jason’s. “I need you to come home, Jay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if there are any glaring grammar errors or flaws.
> 
> I have a Tumblr, kind of.  
> https://arkadavinia.tumblr.com/  
> Harass me, or say hi, and maybe I'll do something with it.
> 
> ;


End file.
